


Like Real People Do

by harryandlouisandpuppies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, I wrote this for school, Louis is sassy, Love Affair, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor elounor, Poems, Sassy Louis, Sorry Not Sorry, What else is new, and im too lazy to go through and change it, christopher poindexter, harry is a hipster, harry works in a bookstore, i'll add tags as i go, louis compares harry to basically every type of animal, mental health implied, mentions of sophiam, so i had to substitute fuck for damn ect, the boy with the curls, this was for school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:27:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4616553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryandlouisandpuppies/pseuds/harryandlouisandpuppies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson just wants to spend his lunch break eating his pizza in peace, is that too much to ask for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Louis rolled his eyes as he walked past the red head receptionist. He saw her huff and pout out of the corner of his eye when he, yet again, ignored her flirtatious attempts. He ran to the sandwich shop across the street from the tall, multi-purpose building he works in, bought a simple slice of pizza and returned back in front of the building.  Once he arrived back, he went to finding a place on the steps to sit on and eat. He was eating in peace and enjoying the weather, the voice of Adam Levine playing through his ear buds when a figure blocked the sun from hitting him. He enjoyed the sun. Tugging the headphones out of his ears he glared at the person who was now sitting next to him. A boy, or man, a boy looking man? Brown hair – _way_ too long – all messy, tangled and windblown hanging at his broad shoulders and a loose flowing blouse, _a damn blouse_ , and too-tight jeans, a journal in one hand, messenger bag hanging over his shoulder and a Panini in the other hand. Louis glowered at the intruder who was sitting maybe too close to Louis, to others it probably looks like they know each other with the close proximity they're sat. There's literally so much available space for this monkey boy man (because Louis sees some chimpanzee in him, with those ears and limbs and that bite he took out of his Panini, no way there isn't some sort of monkey DNA embedded into his) to sit, it's totally unnecessary for him to be sitting there. And so Louis just glared at him waiting for him to notice and apologize for invading Louis' personal space. But then he took another bite of his Panini and seemed to not even notice the daggers Louis' blue eyes were shooting him and Louis had had enough. "Um excuse me" he spoke, causing the monkey human to look at him. He didn't even look shocked to see Louis sitting there, that close to him. He just chewed his Panini like a damn camel and stared at Louis with slow blinking eyes and it only boiled Louis' blood some more. His eyes were blank, not even expecting, waiting for what words would come from Louis' mouth next, nope. Just blank. "Think you could move mate?" He barked at him. He didn't even care enough to offer a tight smile, just glared at him.

"Quite like it here" his voice was deep and slow like his blinking and Louis might add sloth to the list of creatures this annoying specimen is made up of.

"Yeah well _here_ , is my spot"

"You picked an excellent spot" the boy/man/monkey/camel/sloth looked away as if their simple conversation had ended contently but oh no.

"Yes I did, so my question is, what are you doing in my spot?"

"Well I chose this spot too" there was now a list of animals Louis despised because of this human.

“You can’t just choose a spot that’s already taken!” and yes, Louis was 100% aware that he was acting and sounded like a 5 year old. Suddenly the monkey boy with wild brown hair twisted his body a bit in order to face Louis

“How do you know that I didn’t choose this spot first?” Louis chose to ignore the little spark of something in monkey kids green eyes, let out an exasperated sigh, standing up and forgetting about his now cold greasy pizza,

“Ok fine, you can have my spot. I don’t care anymore” he gathered his stuff, turned his back on the insufferable monkey boy and took one step before the deep raspy voice called out to him.

“What about your pizza?” Louis gave the greasy cheese pizza a glance.

“You can have that too” the small spark in his eyes was gone now as Louis rolled his eyes and walked away.

 

The only good thing about that day, honestly, was that it was Friday. Which means Louis will be free from all annoying humans until Monday, god bless. However, his relief was short lived when he walked into his flat later that day to find his girlfriend Eleanor in one of her mad cleaning sprees. Joy. He tried to sneak into the safety of their bedroom but failed and was roped into helping clean. He hated cleaning.

 

***

 

  ****

Upon arriving at work Monday morning Louis was in a pretty good mood, for a Monday and all. Alice wasn't at work so he was free from her obnoxious flirting and annoying monkey boy man was no where in site during his lunch. It was a pretty good day Louis reckons. And, it was a Monday. Put this in the record book for best Monday ever.

 

He should've known, he was silly and naïve to think that a Monday could be a good day. Honestly he really should've seen it coming. The minute he walked into the book shop nestled in between a café and clothing boutique  across the street from his job, his eyes landed on a wild mess of chocolatey brown curls curled up in a peachy vintage lounge chair straight out of the 1920s. His big nose deep inside a book, giant hands decorated with rings covering the name of the book from Louis' eyes. He looked so out of place Louis wanted to laugh. This monkey kid wearing a flamingo covered blouse and black and white striped skinny jeans — he most definitely got that whole outfit out of the women's section, Louis' certain of it. Eleanor definitely has those pants — sparkling black boots, sparkling black boots. Boots with sparkles. Are you serious? And a fedora with a feather in it. Louis wanted to punch him. All while being curled up a random out of place peachy chair with some novel that was probably too hipster.

Louis stood in the entrance of the book store staring in bewilderment at the monkey human when said monkey human decided to glance up from his book and meet Louis' blue eyes with his green ones. Louis wanted to look away, he didn't want to interact with the annoying human. But he couldn't. His eyes couldn't move. They were stuck on the big green ones. He watched in a frozen kind of way as the monkey boy swiftly closed the book and untangled his limbs from their folded position and hopped up, flitting over to Louis like some gazelle or humming bird or something and Louis thought he looked like a long and tall animated character with exaggerated lanky limbs. It was comical. Until big beady green eyes popped up in front of his way too close, startling Louis but he was still stuck. "Why hello" Louis could feel the monkey breath on his face and that's how he knew he should probably take a few steps back but again, he couldn't.

"Um…" Louis couldn't gather his thoughts, there were no thoughts in his head to gather, his mind was blank.

"Welcome to London's Little Store of Books, would you like assistance finding anything?" Louis raised an eyebrow and glanced at the boy.

 

"You work here?"

 

"Yes I do"

 

"Didn't look much like work when I entered"

 

"Oh it was. I try to read as many of our books as possible for a multitude of reasons, such as being able to correctly refer a book to the right person and give my real honest opinion on almost every book sold here. That right there," he gestures to the chair, "was work at its finest " Louis can't tell if he's completely serious or joking. It's kind of scary. After thinking about what the boy — who isn't even wearing a name tag — said, he looked back up into the big doe eyes.

 

"Okay, if I you're so knowledgeable on the books here, find the perfect book for me” like a flash of lightning the boys’ eyes lit up and Louis’ never seen anything quite like it, the vibrant life and excitement that was suddenly buzzing in the green eyes.

“I was hoping you’d ask” his voice was just above a whisper and he went skipping off down the aisles of books leaving Louis gaping, still in the entrance of the shop, because what? Hesitantly, Louis followed the boy who prancing about like a little puppy or baby deer. "Now, I know you said book, and this is a book, it is, just might not be what you had in mind, I can't read minds, but this book, I guarantee you will absolutely fall in love with it." The book the curly haired kid handed him was on the thin side, a white cover with what seemed to be a hand being unwrapped to the bone, the words ‘Naked Human’ faintly sprawled across the cover. Louis observed the book for a moment,

“Mate this better not some porno book…” A loud, deep laugh rumbled from the boy startling Louis, eyes going wide and snapping up to the boy

“I promise you, there are no naked humans – or naked anything really – in there, it’s just the name of the book. Now come, I’ll check you out” and the prancing puppy gazelle was off again.

“Hey Lou, did you get that book for Fizzy?” Eleanor asked from their small kitchen when Louis walked in the door.

“What?” Louis was still slightly in a perplexed daze from bookshop-monkey boy.

“The book you were planning on getting for Fizzy… don’t tell me you forgot Louis” she had paused in the midst of doing the dishes to twisting her body and look at Louis. When Louis’ confused expression didn’t change at all she sighed and placed the dish rag on the counter, turning all the way around. “You were supposed to pick up that book today after work, Paper Towns or whatever. For your sister. For her birthday. Next week.” She dead panned and Louis’ blue eyes went wide. He _knew_ there was a reason he went to the book store today, one that didn't include a weird monkey boy basically forcing him to buy some weird book. After a long exasperated sigh she shook her head and told him to get it tomorrow before leaving the room. Louis stood there a moment soaking in what just happened before his mind wandered back to the book he was holding, he stared at it for a minute, turning it over to read the summary but instead of words, he was greeted with a painting of a woman's face. Her almond shaped eyes shut, red lips parted and her gold hair framing her face with what looked to be the night sky as a back drop. Okay. Flipping the book back over Louis opened to the first page to see if there were any words there. Nope. Just a drawing — an old bearded mans profile mixed into trees and flowers. Okay. After seeing the second page was another sketch — a woman in a coat — it dawned on Louis that maybe there are no words in it, maybe it's one of those weird artists books. Oh god he hoped not. The next two pages were the title page and table of contents, both with drawings someplace on the page until finally he reached page 9 and _words_. He read the small amount of words located perfectly in the center of the page. It was a poem. He quickly flipped through the book to find that it was _all_ poems. It was a damn poetry book. With a sigh, Louis tossed the book onto the end table next to sofa, grabbed a beer from the fridge and plopped down on the settee.

 


	2. Chapter 2

When Louis went to the book shop the next day after work, he felt some sort of way when he didn't see the out of place gazelle boy curled up in the peach colored chair. He quickly dismissed the unidentified twist of his stomach and located the teen fiction section. He scanned the books probably 3 times, and no, he did not forget what book he was looking for. Nope. “Back so soon?” A deep voice mumbled in his ear. He jumped back away from the shelf of books right into the person behind him — who he knows for a fact is monkey boy —  before spinning around to face him. The boy – who is freakishly tall – looms over Louis with beady kitten eyes and a small smile playing at his lips. He _is_ actually a kitten. Louis’ sure of it. Just like he's a monkey and a gazelle. Maybe a frog too… Louis could see some frog in him. Yeah, definitely a frog.

 

“I actually have a purpose for being here”

 

“Oh, and you didn't last time?” The boys smile kept growing and Louis noticed the deep dimples penetrating the kittens cheeks. _Dimples_. Louis started to shake his head but the boy interrupted him, “No I get it, you just wanted to see me again”

 

“No. Absolutely not. Your monkey face has nothing at all to do with why I'm here”

 

“My _monkey_ face?” The boys smile was so big now and his eyes were sparkling. “Okay little hedgehog, tell me the-”

 

“ _Hedgehog?! Little hedgehog!?_ I am not _little_ , nor am I a hedgehog!”

 

“You sure about that? You look pretty teeny-tiny down there” Louis huffed, taking a step back, crossing his arms and puffing his chest. He _was not_ little.

 

“I'm a perfectly normal height. You're just freakishly tall” the boy — who's name Louis does still not know — just belted out a laugh and shook his head.

 

“Now, what was the reason you came here again?”

 

“I'm looking for a book for my little sister. It's her birthday next week” Louis told him after a long sigh

 

“Okay. What book?”

 

“I don’t remember,” Louis confessed with a grimace

 

“Oi! Maybe you’re not a hedgehog, with that memory!”

 

“Shut it monkey face! All I know is that they’re making it into a movie.”

 

“Well that sure narrows it down!” He laughed and Louis crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

 

“I don’t quite like your attitude there curly.”

 

“Beats yours” he said quietly yet loud enough for Louis to here as he clicked his tongue and acted innocent

 

“Excuse me?!”

 

“Oh, nothing, nothing” and Louis can't say he was exactly mad at the boy, how could one possibly be mad at a literal kitten and the dimples were present on his cheeks again which made Louis’ stomach twist, not the way it had before when he first entered the book store, this twist was more… heart racing. “So this book…”

 

“I don't know, it's called paper something”

 

“Oh! Paper Towns!” All Louis did was blink and he — _what's his name?_ — bounded off like a little bunny and reappeared not a moment later with a book in his hands.

 

After paying for the book Louis was on his way out when he suddenly remembered something. He came to a halt right in front of the doors and spun around on his heel to face the very tall monkey boy who was standing in front of his peachy chair watching him with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I've got a bone to pick with you!” Louis pointed his finger at him and watched as the boy struggled not to laugh, “You. Gave me a Poetry book. _A poetry book_.” A soft laugh rumbled from the boy as he approached Louis, put his large hands on Louis’ shoulder and turned him around and he softly spoke the words;

 

“It drives me mad , but it flames my passion just as well” and gave Louis a gentle push out the door. Leaving Louis — like every other time he's came into contact with the curly haired boy — in a state of bewilderment. All the way back to his flat the words the boy whispered to Louis kept playing on repeat inside his head. And all through dinner and the film Eleanor made him watch, that’s all he could think about. It probably meant nothing, just something the odd boy said. But the way he said it, made it seem like it meant something. Like it was important and significant and Louis just couldn't get over it. And so, with the moon in the sky and a brown haired girl curled up next to him in their king sized bed, breathing at a steady and slow pace, he grabbed his phone off the night stand, setting the brightness on low as to not wake Eleanor, he typed the words still ringing in his head.

 

A poem. _Of course_. By someone named Christopher Poindexter. Google brought him to many tumblr links so he clicked on the first one to read the whole poem. He was _intrigued_.

 

_I remain awake in the_

_Quiet hours of the night_

_When the moon is bold and_

_Beautiful, for one reason,_

_One reason only – this life is_

_Hiding something from me._

_Dammit, I know it is._

_And the beautiful thing is I know_

_It wants me to find it._

_All the things I do are an attempt_

_To discover it._

_The whiskey, the literature, stargazing,_

_Romance, music._

 

_It drives me mad, but it flames_

_My passion just as well._

 

_So here I am, universe,_

_Plush with desire._

 

_Reveal yourself, you beautiful_

_Motherfucker._

  
The poem filled Louis’ stomach with a certain heaviness and it annoyed him because he didn't know _why_ or what _it_ meant. Thinking about the boy, thinking about the poem. Thinking about the boy _and_  the poem… it seemed so _true_  like the boy wrote it himself.

 

***

 

Louis didn't see the boy the next day but on Thursday, just as he settled down on the steps outside his job with a chicken sandwich in hand, a person sat down right next to him. Like, _right_  next to him. His stomach certainly did _not_  flip and he was most definitely _not_ fighting a smile. Not at all.

 

“You didn't come to the book store yesterday so I figured I'd come to lunch” and _okay_ , you can't just _say things_ like _that_. This stranger who Louis doesn't even know the name of, _still_ , shouldn't be allowed in to make Louis feel like some overly emotional teenage girl who thinks _way_  too deep into _everything_! He shouldn't be allowed to make Louis have these feelings bubbling inside him that he's too _scared_ to investigate and decipher because he doesn't know what they mean and he isn't sure if he _wants_  to know.

 

“I wasn't aware I supposed to go to the book store yesterday.” Louis said, tilting his head a bit to look at the boy. The curly haired-green eyed kid just shrugged and pulled a paper bag out of his messenger bag, opened it up and took out some sort of hot sandwich.

 

“Want one?” he held out half the sandwich to Louis who just stared at it. The bread wasn’t your regular Warburton’s bread, Louis could tell that much. Looked fresh out of a bakery. It was toasted with cheese gushing out and what looked to be green leaves and… strawberries?

 

“What is that?”

 

“Strawberry grilled cheese!” Louis observed the sandwich a bit more with a scrunched up nose. Strawberries don't got with cheese. “You'll love it, c’mon,” he looked up from the sandwich to lock eyes with the boy.

 

“How do you know I'll love it?”

 

“Because I made it!” He smiled big, dimples on display. Louis raised an eyebrow and looked back at the sandwich.

 

“And I should trust you?” The boy nodded like an enthusiastic six year old trying to sell a story to their parents, his brunette curls flopping all over. “But you're just a stranger.” Louis could feel his heart begin to pound as the words left his mouth and he anticipated how the boy would reply. He didn't know why.

 

“Are we really just strangers?” The intense look in the mossy green eyes only made Louis’ heart pound more. “I'd like to believe we're more than that.  Little hedgehog. I may not know your name but, that doesn't classify us as strangers, does it?” _more than that. More than what?_  with a gulp, he said,

 

“Louis” his voice came out quieter than he'd have liked.

 

“Louis.” Their eyes stayed locked in an intense stare. It seemed like 10 minutes had passed since the boy spoke Louis’ name and they were trapped in an intense staring contest. What broke their stare was a women yelling wildly at a man down the street, throwing out swears and flipping the man off. It brought Louis back to reality and his eyes caught the large clock on the side of the building and he sputtered out a few swears of his own when he realized he was 5 minutes past his lunch break. He collected all his things and caught the boys eyes, making him freeze in the middle of grabbing things. “Harry.” He nodded his head barely even a fraction and for some reason Louis lost his breath and couldn't move he just watched the boy, Harry, for another moment and Harry watched him too. Reluctantly, he turned around to go back to work, looking back at Harry once, twice, maybe it was five times, but who's counting?

  
  


Harry had lunch with Louis again on Friday, offered him a strawberry grilled cheese sandwich again and this time louis accepted and now he believes he may have an addiction to the thing. Louis may have strolled into the book store after work that day and spent an hour or two talking to Harry before he got a text from Eleanor asking where he was.

 

The weekend was… Odd? Louis and Eleanor went out with their friends – Liam and Sophia – on Saturday, shopping and out to eat. Louis was there… He was. He was both physically and mentally there. For the most part anyway. If he was left alone for a moment it wouldn't take long for his mind to drift to Harry and everything reminded Louis of him for some reason. At the mall, a little hat shop had Louis’ mind running, wondering how many hats Harry had, a lot is what the curly haired boy told him. Walking past the shop he spotted a sparkly black fedora and almost went in to buy it with Harry flooding his brain but Eleanor tugged him along. He surveyed the scarves in topshop because Harry told him about the time he wore head scarves almost everyday for a year and while in Sports Direct – Eleanor and Sophia wanted a new yoga pants – Louis stared at the yoga equipment and wondered if Harry did yoga. He probably did, he seemed like the type to do yoga. He made a mental note to ask him on Monday. Louis scanned the menu at restaurant, was saddened when there was no grilled cheese with strawberries and almost had a heart attack when he saw a tall thin man with curly hair down to their shoulders in a heart covered navy blue blouse thinking it was Harry. Turned out to be a woman. Oops.

  
  


Harry did do yoga. Every morning. And he takes a yoga class every Sunday at 10 am at Good Vibes Studio on Betterton Street. Of course he did. Louis really shouldn't have been surprised but when he sprung the question on Harry Monday afternoon while they waited in line at Moosh Fruit Carnaby, he threw his head back in laughter at the way Harry's eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. Louis just couldn't stop laughing and Harry just kept on adding little comments about his yoga life style like his banana printed yoga mat or his peachy pink Adidas short shorts (Harry just blushed when Louis asked if they were found in the women's department) he had been so busy laughing and imagining Harry doing yoga with his hair up in a bun and a headband holding it back in his little pink shorts on his banana mat that he hadn't even realize it was their turn to order until Harry was handing him a cold cup with an ever present smile on his face. Louis sobered up from laughing and stared down at the cup full of thick purple slosh before looking back up at Harry who was looking at him with that smile, the kind that said ‘you just keep laughing at me but that's okay I like watching you laugh and it's even better that I'm the reason you're laughing’. Or, at least that's what Louis hopes it says. His (pink, pink) lips only tugged up more watching Louis connect the dots that Harry had both ordered and paid for his smoothie, without him even realizing.

 

“U-uh… Thanks” Louis choked out, a tickling feeling erupting inside his stomach. Butterflies? No, it couldn't be. Harry just shrugged and took a sip of his grassy green drink. Louis grimaced, it looked like something you'd find in a cows stomach. “That looks gross”

 

“It's really good though, try it” he thrusted his plastic cup to Louis stared at it in disgust before cautiously sticking his head out and taking a sip from the straw, Harry still holding the cup. He pulled back quickly, throwing a hand up to cover his mouth in order to keep himself from spitting it out. After the dreaded swallow, he gagged and took a big gulp from his own fruity smoothie, Harry watching with sparkling green eyes and stifling a laugh.

 

“The hell is that?!”

 

“It's called Kick Starter,” Harry said, observing his drink, “Cucumber, Apple, avocado, lime and wheatgrass all smoothied up for the low price of £4.50”

 

“That's just disgusting Harold.” Louis said, shaking his heads, feigning disappointment

 

“It’s called healthy, Lewis” Harry replied cheekily.

 

“If you want me to continue talking to you, you will never call me Lewis again. I don’t even know why Lewis is a name, who’d name their child Lewis? Even the name itself says ‘ew’” Louis rambled on but stopped when Harry – softly laughing – touched his head.

 

“Calm down there little hedgehog, didn’t mean to get you all riled up”

  
“First you call me Lewis and then little hedgehog, Jesus Harry, if you don’t want to talk to me you could’ve just said so,” Louis put his smoothie on the counter next to him, crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head away from Harry, sticking his nose up in the air. His eyes widened to the size of the moon and he squeaked when strong (like, really strong) arms wrapped around him and he got tugged into the taller boy, his back against Harry’s chest. His heart was beating, no, pounding, so hard and fast that Louis was sure he was about to go into cardiac arrest. Harry pulled him in even closer – Louis didn’t even know there was any space left between them to be closer, but apparently there was – and rested his head in the crook of Louis’ neck and just hugged him. Louis didn’t know what to do, all thoughts – well, almost all – of having a heart attack disappeared and now all that was in his head was how strong Harry’s arms were, and how warm he was and how safe Louis felt in his strong, warm embrace, but the thought that stuck out to Louis the most, was how well they fit together, like pieces of a puzzle and as cheesy and cliché and over used as that sounds, it’s all Louis could think. They stayed like that for a little bit and maybe it was weird, but Louis didn’t feel weird or out of place, he felt at home. Harry made him feel at home and that’s something Louis wasn’t willing to think about at that very moment, he’d rather save that thought for another time, like, never. It just scared him, he’s never felt this way before, not even with Eleanor.


	3. Chapter 3

For the next few weeks Louis and Harry remained like that, stuck to each other like glue. It’s as if they’ve never not known each other, Harry makes Louis homemade lunch and meets him on the steps outside his office every day at the same spot and Louis goes to the book store after work to follow Harry around for two hours and then they walk to get food or just walk to walk. Harry even dragged Louis to his yoga class one Sunday and he hated it, yoga is not for Louis, but he did enjoy watching Harry and maybe he liked when his hair fell loose from his bun and ran like a little puppy to Louis who was sitting on the sidelines for him to fix it. Louis liked that. He liked touching Harry’s hair, it was soft, and so he did it often, sometimes he'd just casually reach up and pet Harry or play with his hair or tug at it and Harry would just purr like the kitten he is with a cute little smile showing off his cute little dimples. Apparently he's been happier as of late, according to Eleanor at least, she sat him down one night and asked him why he was coming home late, picking at the hem of her shirt. It took him a second to realize she feared he was cheating on her, he spent the rest of the night comforting her, assuring that it was only a friend he was with and made sure to get the fact that Harry was a boy across to her, knowing that it would ease her worries. It was the first and last time Louis mentioned anything even related to Harry to her.

On Monday, Harry doesn’t show up on the steps for lunch, Louis sits in their regular spot, picking at his fingernails, tapping his toes and keeping his eyes peeled for the curly haired boy but no luck. Louis searches the book store after work – still no Harry. He finally goes up to the front desk after his stomach flips uncomfortably for the tenth time that day and asks the middle aged blonde lady if she knows where the boy is. “He hasn’t come in today; nothing unusual for that boy really, he has his off days. Although… he hasn’t for a while” is what she told him, and she doesn’t know when he’ll be back. Louis left with a tight chest. The rest of the week was the same – no Harry. Louis couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, he could only worry about Harry. He didn’t like not knowing where he was or what was going on with him, what did the lady mean by “off day” and why did it last all week?

 

The next Monday Louis almost cries when he sees Harry sitting at their spot on the steps and hugs him tightly for probably 10 minutes, the way Harry acts perfectly normal, as if he wasn’t missing the entire previous week throws Louis off a bit and at the book store later that day, Louis finally asks the question that’s been bubbling in his mind all day, “So… where were you last week?” He tries to ask casually, acting like he's more focused on the books on the shelves in front of him rather than the tall boy beside him but he can see Harry in his peripheral vision.

“Just… Ya know,” he brushes off the question with a shrug, picks out a book and moves it to another location. “What do you want for lunch tomorrow?” Louis watched him, for any sign that he might let on to what was going on with him last week, but nothing. So Louis answers that it doesn't matter in a quiet voice. That's how the rest of the week goes. They're the usual them, louisandharry, stuck to each other like peanut butter and jelly. But, there are these instances where Harry falls silent and get lost in his thoughts and Louis can see in his eyes that he's not there, he's someplace else, all the vibrant green in his eyes drain to a dull pale grey-green, filling with all the wrong emotions, emptiness, sadness and fear. It kept Louis up at night. Remembering the look in his eyes, he was too precious to know those emotions. The following week Louis couldn't focus on his work, him mind stuck on Harry who was missing again. He had had enough of the twisting within his stomach by Wednesday and asked the blonde at the book store – Meredith – for Harry’s address, worry lines covered her face and Louis could tell she was concerned for Harry as well and gave his address up without a fight asking that he stop by tomorrow to tell her how he's doing. He rushed his way to the little building on the outskirts of the city and found Harry's name on the buzzer list – he didn't answer. Louis was near about to have a panic attack when a pregnant lady opened the door to the building, he rushed to squeeze his way in past her and sprinted up two flights of stairs until he found a door with ‘B9’ painted on it. He knocked lightly, calling out for Harry but got no reply, jiggling the door knob he let out a sigh of relief when the door popped open and he entered Harry's flat. It was small, a sofa, TV and two seater table in what Louis presumes to be the living room with deep red carpeting and a large window leading to the fire escape where he could see pots full of different kinds of plants. There were two doorways, one led to a hallway the other, to the kitchen. Louis called out for Harry but again, no response. He walked down the hallway, there were two doors, one was the bathroom door – he knows this because the door was opened – so he walked cautiously into the other room which had to be his bedroom. The first thing he noticed upon entering, was books. There were books everywhere, but a neat kind of everywhere. They were in stacks lining the wall to his left, the bedside tables of his bed were books stacked on top of each other, there were just books everywhere. Louis was definitely in Harry's bedroom. A faint, warm smile graced his face before he remembered the reason for being here. Harry. There were no blankets on the bed which Louis found odd and the wall parallel to Louis was covered in sticky notes, all yellow except in the center where there was nothing but blue. They had writing on them. All of the sticky notes were written on. Louis’ feet moved him closer, his eyes drawn to the blue post it notes, the words were written in sharpie as opposed to pen or pencil like the yellow notes and the script was larger, one word per note. Louis stepped back to read it, the message Harry had written on his wall that started at the ceiling and ended at the floor.

_“Tell me I am fucking crazy_

_for turning so quickly_

_From a happy man to a_

_Broken man._

_What they don't understand_

_And cannot seem to get_

_Through their thick skulls_

_Is that, to reach the broken_

_People, you too have to_

_Be broken. And that_

_Is all I have ever wanted –_

_To reach people,_

_People no one has yet_

_Reached._

__

_So I will say this –_

_Give me your suffering_

_And I swear it will be carried_

_Even if that means the death_

_Of sorrow inside you_

_And the birth of sorrow_

_Inside me.”_

 

*******

 

Louis’ stomach twisted in the most uncomfortable way and it took all he had not to let out a wretched cry. His eyes darted around the room, he had to find Harry. His heart was pounding. Louis’ eyes landed on a door in the corner of the room, the closet. His stomach dropped and a sinking feeling took over him. He slowly approached the door with trembling hands and tears pricking at his eyes. He felt like he was going to get sick. Opening the door felt like it took five years but finally it was opened and a pile of blankets holding a boy was lying on the bottom. Louis whispered out his name, dread filling his body. He couldn't move, he could only watch the body looking for even the smallest sign of life. And then he blinked. Relief hit Louis like a ton of bricks and he gasped, air finally filling his lungs for the first time since entering the flat. Harry was alive. And awake. His eyes opened but trained on the closet wall, his body facing away from Louis. “Harry, honey,” he whispered softly, crouching down and placed a gentle hand on the comforter that Harry was using as a cocoon. “Love,” he tried to get a reaction out of the boy but he didn't move and his eyes were so full of sadness. “Hazza darling, I'm right here for you okay” he didn't know where the nickname hazza came from but he didn't have time to think about it, he was fighting back tears and just sat on the floor next to Harry, his hands finding the boys soft hair to stroke. He sat there next to Harry – who didn’t make a noise or move an inch – for the remainder of the day. He left late into the night when he finally heard Harry’s soft snores. Eleanor jumped on him when he walked in his flat, demanding to know where he was but he brushed past her, telling her he wasn’t in the mood and went to bed. The rest of the week went on, Louis spent his lunch breaks outside of Harry’s closet and went straight there after work until he was certain Harry was asleep and he would return home.

The next week was a good week. Happy, kitten Harry was back. It was good, he was smiling and his eyes were shining and never once did the sun in his green eyes falter but Louis still tossed and turned with worry about Harry at night. The week after that was the same. They never talked about what happened because every time Louis tried to Harry would shrug it off and act like nothing happen and each time Louis saw him close up a little. So Louis simply didn't mention it. But he thought about it. He thought about it all the time. The way Harry was curled up in his duvet at the bottom of his closet staring at the wall eyes full of sadness not moving, not eating, not drinking. Did he get up while Louis was at work or home? Did he eat or go to the bathroom at all that week? He had to have… Right? It unsettled Louis thinking about this thing inside of Harry, like darkness that was consuming him slowly and would swallow him for a week before spitting him back out. It had to mess with his head. How can one just bounce back from something like that and act like nothing even happened? What caused him to shut down like that? Louis wished he could just crawl inside his head and figure out what was going on with him and help him. He wanted to make Harry feel better, he never wanted Harry to suffer from that overwhelming dark sadness again.

The week was going good. Louis lived for spending time with Harry honestly, the strange things that he said, the way he giggled at everything Louis said, his buzzing green eyes, his slightly big but very cute nose, his big ole elephant ears that he kept hidden beneath his silky soft curls, his pale milky skin, his rosy red cheeks, his dimples, his soft plush pink lips.  Louis’ phone rang, signaling it was time for him to go, it was Friday and Louis and Eleanor had to attend a dinner party hosted by Liam and Sophia, it was an engagement announcement really – Liam finally proposed, finally – and so he had to part ways with Harry earlier than regular much to his dismay. Harry opened his arms and Louis stood on his tiptoes – Harry's a tad taller than him – and threw his arms around his neck, Harry's large hands holding him close. He dug his face into the crook of Louis’ neck, as per usual for a Harry hug. Just before Louis landed back flat on his feet, ending the hug, Harry whispered words into his ear that he didn't quite understand. But he didn't have time to dwell on it because his phone began to ring from his pocket, probably Eleanor demanding to know where he is. He smiled apologetically and said goodbye to Harry, turning to leave the book store. Opening the door, he turned to look at Harry – who hadn't moved an inch and still watching him – one last time before leaving the store that he wouldn't see until Monday.

****  
  


_Harry_  was the constant buzz in Louis’ brain – like always. But after seeing his friend and his now fiancé look at each other the other night with literal heart eyes as they thought about their future together, he's all Louis could think about. All the things about Harry, just, _Harry Harry Harry_. Louis loved the way he felt in Harry's strong arms. He felt safe, he felt an overwhelming sense of safety, one that he's never felt before but feels oh so familiar. Home. That's what Harry felt like to Louis. He felt like home. Louis loved the way Harry made him feel, he loved the things he said, he loved simply being in his presence, he loved everything about Harry. _Love love love_. All these thoughts and feelings kept Louis up at night, he's never felt like this about anyone before, not even Eleanor. It scared him and so when these thoughts bubbled inside his head he would push them away, too afraid to exam them and discover what they meant and where they could lead.

But tonight, tonight was different. With a tingling sensation erupting inside of him at the thought of seeing Harry the next day Louis got the sudden urge to run up to the boy and spit out the word love and jump in his arms and stay there till the world crumbled away.

He was in love with Harry.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The thought – or realization really – wasn't as scary as Louis was expecting. He just admitted to himself that he, a boy, who was dating – and has been for three years – Eleanor, a girl, is in love with Harry, a boy, who he met just a few months back. He doesn't even blink an eye at the fact that for the 26 years he's been on this earth he's identified as heterosexual. If anything, he feels relieved. Like a weight lifted off him and he gets excited just thinking about seeing the spectacular Harry tomorrow. _oh Harry_.

But Harry isn't at the steps for lunch on Monday. A sinking feeling washes over Louis and he can't shake it. All the cells in his body melt into a heavy thick substance called dread that makes  _everything_  difficult for Louis. Walking, talking, operating like a normal human, blinking, thinking, breathing. It all becomes so _hard_  for Louis to do and he feels like he might combust at any moment because _something_ is not okay, something is terribly, horribly wrong and Harry _isnt_  here. Finally Louis gets to leave work. He’s jogging down the steps of his building and sees the book stores door open up and Meredith comes out with a girl, a girl who – although the distance between her and Louis is quite large – looks remarkably like Harry. There's something about them, he's to far to read the expression on their faces or the emotions in their eyes but there was something. They were talking, and Meredith pointed to Louis and suddenly he couldn't move, just watch them from where he was. The girl began to approach Louis and he just stood there and watched.

“Hi, I'm Gemma, are you Louis?” Her face was all wrong. To much sadness covered it, her eyes were rimmed with red. Unable to speak, Louis nodded. “I'm um, Harry's sister” her voice cracked in the worst away at the mention of his name and she looked up towards the sky to try and gather herself. “He uh, he –“ she ran a hand down her face, “talked about you a lot,” Louis could see that Gemma was struggling, standing, talking, breathing, it was all a grand struggle for her. The dread in Louis only consumed more of him. “Um, last – last night he um-“ she stuttered all over her words and a tear rolled down her cheek. She took a big deep breath and tried to continue, “he killed himself-“ that was all Louis heard before everything within him shut down. His throat constricted, his vision blurred and his hearing ceased.  _no no no no no no no no_. He couldn't faintly hear her ramble on in a broken voice something about a rope but Louis couldn't take it. He had no idea what was going on his head was spinning, mushing everything together, everything was blurry.

He doesn't remember how but somehow he got home. Walked in his flat and just stood there. Completely empty. His face is soaked but he's not sure if he's still crying. He doesn't know anything. All the moments he's had with Harry flash through his mind like lightning and finally settles on the last moment he and Harry shared together, and the words Harry whispered to him, “the prince we call balance 32” he had no idea what it meant but it had to mean something. And then his eyes landed on the coffee table. The white book lying on the coffee table, naked human. And as Louis slowly moved towards it, he kept telling himself that he's being stupid, the last words Harry ever said to him had absolutely no connection to the book of poems at all. He flipped to the table of contents and his heart beat faster when he saw a chapter titled The Prince We Call Balance. He flipped to that chapter, page 27. Which meant page 32 was in that same chapter. His heart continued to pound at an incredible pace as he turned to the page and read the words printed there;

_The best thing we can do is be honest_

_About our souls._

_I have learned this about myself – at times_

_I am filled with an incredible_

_Amount of warm sadness_

_Because there are just too many_

_Extraordinary people in this world_

_For me_

_I feel like I could love_

_A thousand different people and live_

_A thousand different lives_

_In just this one body_

_I have been given._

_That is why I am such a dangerous lover –_

_You do not want to fall in love with me._

_I will burn your world down ferociously._

_I run with packs of wolves,_

_And my blood stricken fangs_

_Have fallen in love with the tragedy_

_That I yearn to fall in love_

_With you. And you and you and_

_**  
**You._


End file.
